Bits and Pieces
by cajolerisms
Summary: A collection of short things ranging from about 100-1,000 words that are either little bits of silliness or notes for bigger projects. Content and ratings vary, so please note the headings in each individual chapter.
1. The Dare

**Title: ****The Dare**

**Fandom: ****Star Wars prequels – sometime between TPM and AOTC**

**Characters: ****Quinlan Vos, Siri Tachi, and Bail Organa**

**Categories: ****Humor**

**Rating: ****T**

**NOTE: ****This****grew out of a prompt in a fanfic meme on LJ: [Quinlan Vos] is dared by [Bail Organa] to strip while pole-dancing in front of [Siri Tachi]. Write a short dialogue about this. **

****  
"No," says Siri.

"Absolutely not," says Quinlan.

"You have to. I've dared you." Bail grins, then he starts gesturing wildly at the strip club DJ. "Hey! Hey! He wants to go!"

"Bail I swear if it wasn't treason against the Republic, I'd murder you in front of everyone."

"As long as you take it off!" The rest of the crowd gets into it too. "Take it off! Take it off!"

Quinlan reluctantly gets on the stage and stiffly dances around a little, unbuttoning his shirt. Bail cheers him on. Siri tries to hide behind her hand. The crowd's enthusiastic reaction and the pounding music encourages Quinlan, who takes off his shirt and tosses it into the crowd.

"I can't believe this is happening," Siri moans.

"You Jedi need to let loose more often." Bail says.

"I hate you. What- Oh Force."

On stage, Quinlan has started undoing his pants. He takes hold of the stripper pole and gyrates against it to his audience's approval. He looks out into the crowd and catches Siri glaring at him from the back booth. Any embarrassment he feels flies out the window at yet another chance to annoy Tachi. He shimmies the rest of the way out of his pants, and wraps one leg around the pole. Then he opens his mouth and mimes a particularly unsanitary act at the pole, which results in a swell of noise, a rain of money landing the stage, and a gloriously murderous look from Tachi.

Siri finds herself caught between the desires to drown in the seat cushion and mind-whammying Quinlan to drag that sorry excuse for a Jedi back to the Temple in the rain still in his underwear, but the bastard would probably love either of those things. Then she senses the door open behind her and a familiar presence enter. Onstage, she sees Quinlan freeze in mid-hump and his eyes grow wide. In a blur of motion, Siri grabs Bail by the arm and drags him to the other exit, where Quinlan is already waiting for them, shirt half on and hurriedly jumping into his pants.

"What's going on?" Bail asks. The crowd is also confused, but already another amateur has jumped onstage to try her luck and sweep up the credits Quinlan left behind.

"We're going," Siri hisses in panic.

"Now," adds Quinlan, pushing them both toward the door.

Bail is utterly bewildered. "But, but I don't understand what's going on."

Quinlan and Siri are just about to bundle Bail out the door when a strange voice makes them both freeze.

"Nice to see you out, it is."

Quinlan's head drops. "Good evening, Master Yoda."

"How are you, Master Yoda," Siri intones.

"Disappointed I am, to miss the show," Yoda replies with a wiggle of his long ears. "A boxer man, always pegged you for, I have, Knight Vos."


	2. Council Retreat

**Title: ****The Council Retreat**

**Fandom: ****Star Wars prequels – sometime before TPM**

**Characters: ****Mace Windu, Yoda, and the rest of the Jedi Council**

**Categories: ****Humor, Gen  
**

**Rating: ****T**

**NOTE: ****This one is a companion piece to the other drabble, "The Dare." Someone on LJ asked me to write something featuring Yoda taking his turn onstage, so fair warning. **

If it was one thing Mace Windu hated, it was the annual Jedi High Council retreat. If he heard Plo Koon tell the story of when a Rancor ate his boots one more time, he was going to slice himself in half with his own saber. He had reports to review, padawans to terrorize, and missions to plan. But instead, he was weaving bracelets out of pine needles and talking about his feelings.

As it was, they had spent two days already sharing a cabin in one of Coruscant's larger botanical spheres, communing with the Living Force and going through trust exercises. Mace remembered the look on Oppo Rancisis' face when his attention "slipped" and the other Councilor narrowly caught himself from plummeting into the lake, and chuckled.

"What's so funny?" asked Plo Koon.

"I know why he's laughing," Oppo groused from the opposite end of the table, his face completely obscured with thick, frizzy curls. "He knows what happens when I get wet."

"No, no," Mace replied, contorting his face to keep the scowl in place. "I was just thinking about a joke I heard the other day. Hey, Oppo, how is a bantha like a battle droid?"

Oppo harumphed and returned to his drink, angrily swirling the long, pink curly straw through the blue slush.

"I'm hungry," Adi Gallia complained. "When is our food getting here?"

Depa Billaba was in no better mood. "This place is awful. They only had one vegetarian option on the menu. Why did Yoda bring us here?"

Mace knew, but he wasn't saying. As a new member of the Council, his former padawan didn't know what was in store this evening. Seeing her reaction was really the only thing keeping him going at the moment.

Eventually, the food arrived. The eleven councilors dug in with gusto, having had little more than trail mix and toasted marshmallows for the past couple of days. After long minutes of silence broken only by the sound of chewing and one inelegant burp from Plo Koon that made his mask jump, Depa looked up.

"Where is Yoda, anyway?"

Speak of the Sith, suddenly the house lights dimmed and a stage rose out of the floor in the middle of the tables.

"Oh!" Depa exclaimed. "Is there a dinner show?"

Mace saw Eeth Koth and Saesee Tinn exchange weighted glances, and the others focus their attention down at their food. No one answered.

Leave it to Yoda to perfectly coordinate an entrance. A heavy bass began to reverberate through the room, making their dishes vibrate slightly. The melody, if it can be called that, of an antiquated pop song started blasting as the center dias of the stage emerged from beneath the floor.

"There's Master Yoda!" Depa squealed excitedly, turning to Mace. "Isn't this special?"

It was all Mace could do to nod. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the tiny Grand Master, still thankfully wearing his robe, climbing his way slowly up the pole in the dias, singing off-key and off-syntax to himself.

Keeping his eyes tightly fixed on his dinner, which in fact was quiet an interesting color, Mace felt Depa nudge his elbow. "Master Mace, what is Yoda doing on that pole- Oh Force!"

A flutter in the Force and the spike of panic that came from every patron simultaneously was all the information he needed. Food, yes. Food was delicious, nutritious, and definitely not naked.

"MASTERRRR!" Depa shrieked. "He's wearing a thong!"

"Oh, is he? That's interesting," the barest hint of a mad giggle made its way into his voice.

"It's red and -why is he wearing a bra? He doesn't even have breasts. Oh Force, does Yoda have breasts?"

In all the years he had been forced to witness Yoda's forays into cabaret, Mace had never quite witnessed a full Jedi Master and member of the High Council work herself into hysterics quite as spectacularly as Depa. Then again, Yoda crossing-dressing was new development, and he couldn't deny his own growing trepidation. Mace dared a glance up, carefully angling his head to avoid the stage. In the dim light, Depa was near to hyperventilating, with bright blotchy red spots appearing on her cheeks and throat, her eyes panicked and glued to the stage in front of her.

"Why?" she cried. "Why is this happening?"

Just then, a gint of something shiny caught in Mace's vision, making him blink. He scowled and shifted to avoid the glare, but instead received a heaping eyeful of exactly what he tried so hard to avoid. He froze like an animal facing an oncoming speeder.

"What..." he whimpered. "What is he doing with his gimer stick?"

"I'm scared, Master."

"I am too, Padawan," he replied, pawing blindly at the table until he found her cold hand. "I am too."

"For the love of the Light, why are you two looking?" hissed Adi from the other side of Depa.

Mace found his voice with difficulty. "Can't... look...away..."

Depa was shaking now. "So...green..."

"The song is almost over," Adi offered, though her voice wavered a bit.

Indeed it was, but in the mean time, Mace was faced with the image of the little master gyrating energetically with the pole between his stubby legs, ancient green skin flapping ever so slightly where gravity warranted. Brown fabric littered the stage, as well as a few red articles. The battle-hardened part of his mind vaguely registered the terrified silence of the crowd and the sickly sour taste of abject horror before it promptly shut itself off and hid under the couch.

After an eternity, the song wound to a crescendo and ended with Yoda posed dramatically on the stage floor in a position that Mace didn't think he was anatomically capable of realizing. With a bow and a flourish, the tiny master gather his clothes with the Force, calling it to fly off the floor and perfectly back into place.

He jumped into his tiny floating pants with more energy than anyone had seen him display in a decade, and made his way cheerfully to his fellow Councilors.

"Fun that was!" he cackled.

"Yes, Master Yoda," managed Micah Giett.

Yoda beamed. "My favorite that song is."

"It was very festive, Master Yoda," agreed Even Piell in a rasping whisper.

Yoda gave a poke to Mace's side with his gimer stick, seemingly unperturbed by the junior Master's shocked stillness. He levitated himself into the seat next to him and sampled Mace's unfinished meal with a clawed hand.

"Food not very good here. Back to Temple we go. Much work to catch up we have."

The High Council gathered itself silently and filed out of the restaurant, taking their fallen comrades gently by the elbow and leading them along with the rest of them. At the head of the pack, Yoda continued to sing to himself and thump his gimer stick on the ground in time.

"More than once a year, we should do this!" he declared. "Amateur nights open every weekend, there are. When eight hundred and fifty years you reach, deny the rhythm, you cannot!"


	3. The Murder of ObiWan Kenobi  1

**Title: **** The Murder of Obi-Wan Kenobi – Drabble 1**

**Fandom: ****Star Wars prequels – One year after AOTC**

**Characters: ****Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon**

**Categories: ****AU, slash, drama**

**Rating: ****T**

**NOTE: ****This is part of a larger AU story I'm working on called "The Murder of Obi-Wan Kenobi" in which Obi-Wan mysteriously walks into the Temple 12 years after his sudden death. There are no spoilers for the actual story, which I will post in installments starting in February on the Master_Apprentice Yahoo group, and on my LJ. **

"I'm sorry I died."

Qui-Gon was silent for a long while. "It wasn't your fault."

"But I could have been faster, slower, or something that night." He leaned in slowly until his cheek was on Qui-Gon's shoulder, and he was filled with the warmth and scent of his skin. "I left you alone for so long, and now I'm not how I was. I am sorry."

The tension slowly ebbed from the body against his. It swelled with breath, and released it in a tremulous sigh. Soft whiskers brushed his temple as Qui-Gon pressed a kiss into his hair. "Just please be real."


	4. The Murder of ObiWan Kenobi 2

**Title: **** The Murder of Obi-Wan Kenobi – Drabble 2**

**Fandom: ****Star Wars prequels – One year after AOTC**

**Characters: ****Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon**

**Categories: ****AU, slash, drama**

**Rating: ****M**

**NOTE: ****This is part of a larger AU story I'm working on called "The Murder of Obi-Wan Kenobi" in which Obi-Wan mysteriously walks into the Temple 12 years after his sudden death. There are no spoilers for the actual story, which I will post in installments starting in February on the Master_Apprentice Yahoo group, and on my LJ. **

We fall apart, gasping.

I feel empty and spent, and yet so thrumming with life that I can't help but moan out loud again. I feel every little ache and pull in my body. My limbs tremble and I could not pull myself out of this heaviness that engulfs me even if I wanted. I am fevered and exhausted, but then the cool air brushes my skin. This is paradise.

Qui-Gon shifts beside me, his hands cautious and his voice full of concern. "Are you all right?"

He worries, my poor lover. He has seen me hurt so often that he cannot help but think the worst when I make such sounds. I turn to him, feeling as sweet and slow as syrup. "I'm wonderful," I say, draping myself over him now that I no longer feel like I'm going to catch on fire.

He cradles me in his long arms, petting my back and kissing my face with such gentleness that I feel almost as fragile as he thinks I am. I can't begrudge him such sentiment, all things considering. When everything works itself out, I'll be able to show him and he'll know that I am not some cracked glass creature. In the mean time, he needs these little moments to find his peace after everything that has happened.

I hum happily against him, tangling myself into his limbs and hair, kissing his shoulder, his neck, and his jaw until I run out of places to kiss and he tips his head down to oblige me with a deep, proper one. My poor, patient, wonderful lover, who takes delight in the smallest things- I can feel his joy vibrating between us now. I find my mouth parting for him and my body undulating against his, and he smiles.


End file.
